


The First, and last, Death of Harry James Potter

by WeOffendedShadows



Series: Harry Potter One-shots [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Heat Death, Neither can Live while the other survives, Tumblr Prompt, death au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 22:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17313089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeOffendedShadows/pseuds/WeOffendedShadows
Summary: *-* Written from a tumblr post i saw a long time ago, finally posting *-*“And he would greet Death like an old friend,” he replied. Harry just pulled her in closer, taking in the warm embrace. The ankh felt odd against his chest, and the leather jacket smelled so good in the sterile environment. His own cloths were just clothe he sewn together to have some sense of modesty, even alone. “I've missed you so much, you have no idea how hard it has been not see you all this time.”





	The First, and last, Death of Harry James Potter

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review
> 
> I wrote this a long time ago, and found it on my computer. I wanted to post it, as is, flaws and all. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“In the end,” he said, “All of this. All that you see in the room? It's just a recreation. I've had it on hand for a couple of millennia now, waiting for when things finally did end. I wanted someplace that was familiar. Of a time that reminded me when I was happy.

“I've gone by and been called many things, but my birth name Harry Potter,” he spoke, and took a long sip from the flask in his hand, “And I've been alive since 1983 AD. The current year is 1,000,000,000 AD, give or take a few hundred thousand of years. The exact date doesn't matter since we've changed calendars so often that it’s become difficult to just know what day of the week it is. I have set foot upon every planet inhabitable and greeted all the species who desired peaceful contact. I've fought in dozens of wars and killed thousands: men, women, and whatever gender you wish to prescribe to them. I've done fantastic things. Some good, some horrible, but nevertheless fantastic. Ollivander was right when he said I was destined. I just don't think he knew how right he was. Or any of them did. Not even you.

“I first noticed it when Gin was growing older and older, and my face didn't change at all. The flawless became flawed, as she liked to put it. I just saw the beautiful, lively woman who stole my heart and held it close for her and her alone. I was one hundred and thirty five when she died, and magic was disappearing from the world as numbers and logic and understanding took more and more precedence. I looked like I was twenty five. It was so odd standing at the funeral mourning her death when my children looked older than me, and my grandkids looked my age. I held my first great grandchild in my hands, Emma, and she played with my roguishly handsome hair under our shared umbrella, watching in the rain the burial of my wife. I remember the cold breeze, and the gentle kiss Emma gave me when the pyre was lit. I remember the texture of the heat, the way it grazed over my skin as I stood there. Most everyone was shielded, even Emma, but I wanted to feel it. To be close to her one last time. Still do to this day.

“The love of my life died when I was two hundred and twelve. Even after all this time, I can still remember her laugh, the tightness in my chest whenever I smelled ink and parchment, the shivers from a gentle breeze of cool forest air. My wife was gone and she was all I had left. Her husband had passed decades before, my best friend. I can't remember when exactly. She and I had spent the years between my wife's death and hers trying to understand just why I was still alive. How I had lived through the killing curse again. How disease and injury and death just slide right off me

“It was the prophecy, I realized, after trying to drink myself in a stupor for twenty years. “Neither shall live while the other survives.” With Riddle gone, what was left was life. My reward. I got to live. It was the greatest sacrifice I've ever made, and I made it willingly, without any regret or disregard to the fact that I've been alone without my friends and family for a very long time. 

“I watched as magic died in the hearts and minds of man, leaving it only in me, which further fueled my ability to live through the worst. I watched the next three world wars, the first two just skirmishes compared to the destruction and chaos of the last one. I watched as man ignited his home world and took the skies. And I watched as they came back.”

Harry put down the recorder and leaned forward onto the table. The room was covered in dust and grim, though not through his efforts. It had been sitting unused for the most part in Silo 16, despite the number of refugees looking for Utopia. If it did exist, it wouldn't of much longer. The last rocket to life left three days ago, and all the Futurekind were dead, mostly by his own hand. He had watched as three strangers came in and helped out: two men and a black woman (one of whom looked very familiar). They gave the only thing left in the world: hope. But it wouldn't do any good. Inside, he could feel the deaths and departures of every last person on that ship, and soon, with the end of the universe coming to a close, Harry Potter knew he was the last one alive.

He finished off the bottle and threw it against the wall. He'd clean up the mess later. “I've met some strange people, seen some strange cultures and creatures through my life. There were other long-lived men and women, but in the end, they died too. Everyone does. But me. The longest lived would be a fine gentlemen whom I had the pleasure of meeting with and seducing in back in, oh, thirty fifth century AD. He had been around due to time travel, which mundanes finally figured out, since the nineteenth century. You would have loved him and his knowledge. Probably even joined with me.

“I've seen demons and angels, or at least, creatures who go by those names, divinity aside. I've met beings whose essence could not be contained in this reality and those who hid beneath ours. I've seen skies burn and worlds destroyed. But most of all, I've seen life and I've seen it thrive.”

He stood up and began to put up the chairs in the decayed room. He was getting to the end, and felt that he needed to do something now. “I probably should at least help you, all things considered you probably have your hands full.”

“I'd appreciate it,” she said. Harry turned around. He was mad; he had only his own company for these last few years and taken to talking to himself just to pass the time. Most of the stories left were pale comparisons to those he remembered. He couldn't cast magic, as the energy had finally died out. The room was cold, as was the rest of the universe, as heat became the second to last causality of life. So talking to himself had created the illusion of company. He just hadn't expected a response.

“Mione?” he said.

“In a sorts,” she replied. The bushy black hair and pale skin did not hide the fact that she was the girl he knew back in the final year of his youth, when Voldemort murdered him and he was given the choice to stay or go. He left and lived with that choice since then. “It's been a long time.”

“Yes, it has.”

“I missed you, you know.”

Harry laughed as he walked toward her and hugged the woman tightly. “You're crying?” she asked. “I would have-”

“And he would greet Death like an old friend,” he replied. Harry just pulled her in closer, taking in the warm embrace. The ankh felt odd against his chest, and the leather jacket smelled so good in the sterile environment. His own cloths were just clothe he sewn together to have some sense of modesty, even alone. “I've missed you so much, you have no idea how hard it has been not see you all this time.”

“I can guess,” she replied. The voice sounded so calm and serene, so full of knowledge and understanding.

“And I'm not just talking about her, you know?” Harry continued. “I mean-”

“I know,” she gave him one last squeeze and pulled back. The slight smile was all hers. “It's been too long and I appreciate you not courting me.”

“Figured it wouldn't do any good anyways,” Harry said. “I just would live until it was time.”

“I almost came to see you a couple of times, well more than a couple.” Her hands slide down his arms to grip his. “You'd be surprised at how many times you humans alone try to screw with the natural order. But someone always solved the issue before I could even step out the door.”

“It's okay,” Harry smiled weakly. “I've lived a full life.”

“Many of them,” she said. Reaching a hand up, Harry watched the smile widen as she touched the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Oh my. I've never-”

“It has been a really long time, my friend.” Harry let go and returned to putting the chairs up. “Too long, but I accepted that price.”

“I did not want this,” she said. “There are a lot of people waiting for you.”

“Including you?” he asked.

“Of course.” She started to help him. “When we first met, it was probably one of the best moments of my existence. I just didn't realize it.”

Harry thought back to the train, when he first met the know-it-all girl who was so excited about the world of magic and life. The beginning years were so far away, yet always, they were the freshest and strongest in his mind, ones that always returned to him when he was feeling lost and alone. “I think it was.”

All the chairs stacked up and put the side, the tables rolled to the corners, and the place swept clean. “Once more?” He asked. She turned to him, and her youth was so refreshing and invigorating. “Like back in the forest.”

“You remember?”

“I always hold that night in my arms when I can't sleep.” He stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist. Somewhere, off in a Dream, he heard music. “Every time when I feel like I just want to lie down and wait, I feel the steps we did that night in Dean and I start moving again. Every time when I lose myself in the madness and anger, I hear your laughter as it echoes through my chest and a smile comes to my face.” He spun her around and they danced a forgotten bit to some music that hadn't existed in almost a trillion years. “And when the sadness gets too much, when I stare at the mirror and see the old man I do now, wondering when will it be my time, I remember your smile and the life it had. I loved my wife, and still do.”

“Despite the many relationships and dalliances you've had, including that fine captain.”

“I swear, even Ron would have fallen for him,” Harry laughed.

“I know the man charmed me a few times when it came close to his time.”

“He has a way,” Harry said. “I love my wife, and I loved many others in my life. But there has only been one person like you.”

“I appreciate that thought,” she replied. They said nothing else, and Harry just enjoyed holding his friend once again in his arms.

The music died off, as sound finally joined heat in its final throws. Darkness slowly pulled in around them as she collected light. The ground dissolved and matter around him was collected into nothing. Harry just continued to dance with the woman in his arms, refusing to let her go while she did her job. That there was nothing to stand on, or anything to dance to or even light to see did not stop him. He just danced with the beautiful goth until they were the only ones left in the universe, the only things left. The last sounds he heard before darkness took his eyes for the final time were words he had wished for in a very long time. 

“Come, it's time to go home.”


End file.
